


We said practice, look where we've ended up

by j_obsessed



Series: NSFW... approach with caution (or a lust for cricketers) [4]
Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Choking, Confessions, Consent, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Light Dom/sub, Love Bites, M/M, Marking, Neck Kissing, Resolved Sexual Tension, Riding, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:20:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25529551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_obsessed/pseuds/j_obsessed
Summary: SmutIt's all smutEnjoy ;)
Relationships: Jos Buttler/Joe Root
Series: NSFW... approach with caution (or a lust for cricketers) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887832
Comments: 349
Kudos: 15





	We said practice, look where we've ended up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HeidiJames28](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeidiJames28/gifts), [Cricket_crazy28](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cricket_crazy28/gifts).



> This has stemmed from many conversations with my loves @HeidiJames28 @Cricket_crazy28 and @Col_faridi 
> 
> Side note; it is nasty, so if that's not your cup of tea, there's plenty of SFW content for you instead 🥰❤  
> Otherwise... enjoy the nasty ;)

“Joey?” He asks. Joe looks at the keeper, and flashes him a small smile in acknowledgement. “Can I try something?”

Confused, but also smiling, Joe responds. “Uh, sure? Wait. It depends on what it is. I won’t let you murder me… even though you probably could...” He glances at the keepers biceps quickly, before internally reprimanding himself and looking away.

Jos chuckles, but doesn’t call him out. The keeper stands up and moves to sit back down closer to the younger man, almost pulling him into his arms, touching from their shoulders to their thighs. “I was thinking about this thing we are doing, the whole fake dating thing, in front of your ex? I know we’ll manage, but I don’t want it to be weird, or uncomfortable for you when I act all boyfriend-y out of nowhere for the first time.”

“It’s not the first time, remember when we freaked out _your_ ex, uh, Craig was it? I think, I can’t remember, he’s irrelevant and dumb…”

He mumbles softer, _“he was such an idiot, who would ever let go of you, how, I just don’t understand how anyone could ever let you go.”_

He hopes Jos didn’t hear him, because that kind of just slipped out.

But really. How could anyone ever let go of Jos. He’s _perfect._ And if you told him that he’d argue with you, telling you that no one is perfect and that he just wants to be someone who’s kind and respectful and sweet and good to people in the world-

By god, Joe just wants to know, who the fuck could let Jos go. It had hurt, so bad, watching the wicketkeeper try to pull himself together after everything. He still remembers, to this day.

Jos remains unperturbed from his mission. He puts his arm across the back of the couch where Joe’s currently sitting, very stiffly. “Yes but that was barely like, five minutes. So what if we kind of try it here, where there’s no one around?”

“What, you mean, like _practice?”_ Joe looks at Jos with playful eyes. “What _kind_ of practice?” Jos smiles softly, like he’s trying to figure out what exactly he means, before tucking Joe against him and putting an arm around the smaller blonde’s shoulders.

“Like this? Are you okay with this?” Jos’ fingers find the edge of Joe’s sleeve and he rubs over it, fingers brushing the skin of his bicep from over his shirt. Joe swallows and nods silently, not really trusting his voice. He is too focused on trying his best to stay calm. _And not beg the gorgeous man to fuck him seven ways to Sunday._

_Yes, thank you brain, very helpful indeed._

“Good.” Jos says and goes back to watching the TV, entirely unfazed. Joe, however, is hyper-aware of everything; and is pretty sure Jos can _feel_ his heart hammering. It is beating unusually loud. Every sensory neuron in every place he is touching Jos is _screaming_. He is definitely also ignoring that basically _all of him_ is touching Jos.

_“Joey.”_

_“Joe.”_

_“Root!”_

“Hm? Huh?”

“It’s not exactly going to be believable that we’re dating, if you stay this tense when I touch you. You feel so tightly strung, it actually feels like you’re about to snap in half.” Jos points out, not looking away from the screen.

_I want you to snap me in half god fucking dammnit._

“Are you uncomfortable with me? We don’t have to do this Joey, just because you suggested the whole fake-dating thing doesn’t mean you’re obligated in the slightest. I want you to be comfortable. That was the point of this Joey.”

Joe feels his heart clench at the unmasked dejected tone in Jos’ voice at the first statement, and then at the way Jos is always thinking of him, _taking care of him_. “NO. N-no. M’sorry. That’s not it.” He murmurs and tucks himself even closer, deciding to let himself enjoy being this close to Jos. “M’just not used to being this close to you. There’s always someone in the way.” It’s a flat lie, and Joe knows that Jos has picked it up. Again, he doesn’t call it out.

The taller blonde just hums softly, drawing soft circles on his shoulder, letting his fingers play along the younger’s flesh. Joe focuses on the soft, circular motions, desperately trying to ignore the deliriously suffocating scent of Jos’ cologne, and just, Jos in general. Eventually, ~~much sooner than he anticipated, what is up with that~~ he finds himself at ease, finding comfort rather than anxiety in their closeness.

They’re able to get back to the easy laughter at the show, in this new… _position_. Joe needs his brain to stop spouting this shit honestly. He is cuddled into the wicketkeeper’s side, koala tendencies making a comeback with a vengeance. His head laying on Jos’ chest, tightly nestled under his chin, an arm draped around the blonde man’s stomach, and his legs are in Jos’ lap. He should probably, be concerned at how natural it feels to be curled up with him like this, but once he gets past his own panic, he finds himself unable to question anything. It feels perfect to be so close to him, like they just _fit_ , it’s unbelievably perfect and Joe just feels so _safe._ (It’s not exactly a new thing, but Joe has been having feelings recently, and this is definitely helping them along.) Jos always has that effect on him, without fail, regardless of what’s happening around them.Whether it’s his best friend retiring, or if they’ve just lost a test, or they’ve just seen a teammate hit by a bouncer. He always holds Joe close, and makes him feel _safe._

Safe and protected and treasured and oh lord Joe is _feeling things_.

“Doing okay now?” Jos asks through a smile.

“Never been better. You’re so comfortable. Sorry, I’ve basically made you my eucalyptus tree.” Joe laughs as he pictures himself as a koala, clinging onto Jos.

“I will gladly, lend you a branch any time. As long as you don’t try and eat me. Biting might be allowed though.” He winks. And oh my god _, they’re even making stupid puns together._

_Joe is not focusing on the fact that Jos just said he’d allow biting. No sir._

The pair end up laughing a little too hard, and they might have, maybe, sort of, looked a little bit in love, and a little bit insane. Joe curls further into Jos while he laughs, tenderly clutching at the keeper’s shirt and turning his face into his neck, feeling steady hands softly stroke his hair. His nose is pressed into the tanned, warm skin, and he can almost taste the cologne on the other man’s jaw. (It smells like Old Spice, and Joe can’t help but think that it’s perfect. That Jos is perfect.) He briefly registers, that he would barely have to tilt his head to brush his lips against the sharp bone. His mind ~~and other things~~ _,_ are absolutely _begging_ him to.

And then Jos tips his head back, like a reflex to having Joe tucked there. He’s exposed his neck, and his jaw and his collarbones and Joe actually _gasps._ Because there’s a lot of exposed skin and all he wants to do is _bite._ Without thinking about it, he’s pressed his face into Jos’ neck, lips brushing softly against the warm skin.

Nothing intense. Just a brush.

But Jos _feels_ it _._

Joe hears the other man’s breath hitch softly and the hand in his hair tenses ever-so-slightly. He would’ve been surprised, caught off-guard possibly, _if_ he wasn’t thinking about having his hair pulled while he was being absolutely _debauched_ in the bedroom a few feet away. Jos holds him in place, refusing to let Joe put any space in between the two. The younger takes it as some sort of permission, maybe even _encouragement._

Maybe.

He presses his lips against the keeper’s neck again, this time purposefully, assured. Decidedly _more_. Still gentle, like a fleeting grace against something worth millions, that he’s afraid to break, but inexplicably drawn to. A sculpture he is mesmerised by, but refuses to touch for fear of shattering it.

_Jos is worth more than that._

Joe really, _really_ needs his brain to shut the fuck up.

Jos’ breathing is becoming increasingly unstable, and Joe can hear _his_ heart hammering against his chest. Joe slowly moves the feather-light presses of his lips to the underside of Jos’s sharp jaw. His control slips momentarily, and he flicks his tongue against Jos’ stubble, immediately catching himself and pulling away hastily. Jos just looks at him with wide blinking eyes. They flash down towards Joe’s mouth, and the smaller man feels himself subconsciously look away, tonguing at his own bottom lip. He thanks his body, because if he kept looking at Jos, he was without question going do do some regrettable things. _Okay, so, maybe not regrettable… not even in the slightest… but whatever._

Jos does not seem to appreciate it as much, and hooks a finger under his chin to make eye contact. It’s so subtly _dominating,_ and Joe wants that finger pressing into the hollow of his throat now.

Or he is absolutely going to fucking lose his mind.

“Is this okay?” Jos asks, as though Joe wasn’t the one who started kissing his neck in the first place. The younger just nods, swallowing, sound audible in the heavily strung silence. “Baby, are you sure? I need words from you darling.”

“I’m sure- definitely sure- wait, did you just call me…?”

The corner of Jos’ mouth twitches up briefly before he leans in, kissing Joe so sweetly, the younger boy thinks he’s going to melt. Jos’ lips move slowly and carefully as if he doesn’t want to scare him off. Little does he know.

Or maybe, he does know.

Because. This boy. Asks him.

“How do you like to be kissed, love? How can I make this good for you?”

And, well, there goes all of Joe’s fucking sanity, _all of it._ He hides a strangled moan in the crevice between Jos’ shoulder and neck, gripping at his shirt tightly. He trusts Jos, and he’s gone way past the point of feeling shy. So, if this is his chance to kiss the gorgeous keeper, well then, he’s not going to waste it.

“Rough, messy, want your tongue in my mouth. _Bite me._ Put your hand around my fucking throat, I want the bruises, the marks. I want to explain why I have handprints visible on my neck. Pull my hair, make it hurt. Shove me against everything and make sure I feel it. I want to remember it. _I want to remember you.”_

And oh, there goes _Jos’_ sanity.

All. Of. It.

Joe is pushed into the sofa almost immediately, and Jos’ weight cages him in. He has a fucking perfect view of the older man’s biceps. Suddenly he’s reminded of his ~~recurring~~ fantasy where Jos holds him up and fucks him against the front door and-

Holy fucking _shit_ he’s gonna die.

He’s kissed until he’s dizzy but it’s still all lip. Not chaste, not in the slightest, but it’s not as dirty as he’d like it. Before he can complain that Jos hasn’t fucked his mouth with his tongue yet, the blonde boy’s hands move to tug at Joe’s hair, _roughly,_ baring his neck for Jos’ teeth. Joe lets out a sound that is unquestionably pornographic. It’s barely been two minutes, and his voice sounds _broken._

Jos kisses down his neck, mimicking Joe’s earlier movements, pressing his lips softly against his skin, laying near-kisses, teasing him, while he has the younger trapped under him, slim hips pinned under solid thighs. Joe wants his teeth in that muscle. He wants Jos to feel it everytime he squats down to keep wicket, like a permanent brand that says ‘This belongs to Joseph Root.’ He tries to grip at the muscle with his fingers, but Jos’ hands trap his wrists before he can get to sinking his nails into the flesh. Joe groans his displeasure, only to have Jos crawl up his body and breathe against his mouth; “Beg for it darling.”

_Oh Jesus fucking Christ, that’s not allowed._

Joe can’t do anything but release a choked breath against Jos’ lips, a half plea and a half demand. Jos grins against him wickedly, murmuring soft praises and terms of endearment. Jos licks at Joe’s bottom lip, and Joe gasps, giving the keeper the opportunity to kiss him _properly_. Dirty and rough and the way he needs it.

Still, the keeper just tugs even harder at his hair, and tongues at his jugular. “Let me mark you,” he breathes, nosing against the sensitive skin. It’s not phrased as a question. It’s not even a request.

It’s a fucking _demand_.

Joe just exposes more of his neck as permission, can’t bring himself to speak. Jos places a hand possessively against the side of his neck and mouths at his jugular. “Words baby, need to hear you say it.”

Ever the tease. Why does Joe always fall for the ones who make his life difficult. Christ’s sake.

“F-fuck you. Oh god no, _fuck me._ ”

Jos just laughs, flicks his tongue over a particularly sensitive patch of skin, leaving it shiny and _wet_ and then this fucker _breathes_ over the flesh, moaning obscenely, brushing his lips across the-

“Fuck- _please_ just fucking bite me, I’m losing my mind here. I want it. You know I do. _Please.”_ Joe’s fingers clench tighter at the collar of Jos’ shirt.

Jos hums in approval and drags his canines down the column of his throat. From the very underside of his chin, down his neck, and just over the inner of his collarbones. Before pulling away. Then, right at the centre of his throat, where none of Joe’s shirts will hide the mark, Jos sinks his teeth into the flesh, biting _hard_.

_He got the memo, clearly._

Joe lets out a choked moan of the older boy’s name, as Jos sucks at the bite, laving his tongue over it, repeating the treatment again just under the previous assault. By the time Jos has reached the dip in between Joe’s collarbones, there are three blooming bruises on the younger boy’s neck. Jos is having to use his hands, pushing down on the younger’s hips- as well as his thighs either side of Joe’s to keep the younger from fucking his hips up. Joe’s hands are gripping his hair hard enough to _almost_ hurt. Almost.

Jos experimentally presses his thumb into one of the marks, and it releases the most stunning sound he’s ever fucking heard from the younger boy’s assaulted throat. So he does it again. “Have a thing for that baby? Like my hands on your neck?” Jos asks, lightly wrapping his hand around the slim throat he just had his teeth in.

Joe gasps, writhing, struggling to breathe _and loving it_ , and Jos immediately takes advantage of it, kissing his mouth while Joe lets him have whatever he wants. The younger boy tries to roll his hips up again, searching for something, _anything,_ whimpering softly as Jos bites him again in reprimand. The keeper leans back peeling off his shirt, and Joe just stares.

You can’t blame him, Jos looks like a fucking Armani model. Upper body glistening with a light sheen of sweat, muscles rippling as the material is discarded somewhere… _God._

Jos leans back against the armrest, pulling the other on top of him, nibbling at his ear, flicking his tongue over his sharp jawbone. Joe steadies himself with his hands on broad shoulders, and he sinks his nails into the flesh, earning a deep growl from the man under him.

And now, _now_ Joe really, really wants to fucking ride him. Have Jos in him so deep that he’ll feel it for days, that people will ask why he’s limping. He wants Jos’ hands digging into his jutting hipbones while gravity works it’s fucking magic, and wants to have those finger-shaped bruises seep into his skin.

Jos’ hands are tugging at the buttons on his shirt, and then they’re all over him, pressing into the bite marks and dragging down his back and grabbing at his ass and _fuck_. Soft breaths and noises escape Joe, rolling his hips mindlessly as Jos finally, _finally_ kisses him properly- rough, messy, tongue down his throat and all. He feels _taken._ Jos reaches up to his neck, gripping slightly, and it feels so undeniably _possessive._ Joe can only cry into his mouth at the sensation.

When he pulls off to _breathe,_ Jos’ pupils are blown, and his lips are puffy and bitten. His hair is unruly, more so than usual, and he looks fucking _debauched._

Joe’s worse off. So much worse off. His eyes, usually a sapphire, are darkened to a deep ultramarine, his mouth is open, chest heaving, and his neck looks like it’s been _mauled._

Joe can’t see the marks, but he can feel them. And he cannot help but think that’s incredibly unfair- because Jos’ neck bares no evidence of Joe ever being there. The thought makes his skin crawl, and leaves a distasteful feeling in his heart. He pouts, and Jos raises an eyebrow at him. “Something wrong gorgeous?” He presses a sweet peck against Joe’s lips.

“Jus’ wanna bite you too”, he murmurs quietly, almost too soft after what they’ve just managed. Jos presses his lips to Joe’s temple.

“Jealous?” He teases, pressing his fingers into the marks trailing down Joe’s throat. “You want a claim?”

And if Joe thinks about it (which he can’t do because there’s a hot piece of wicketkeeper under him and he _wants),_ he’d probably realise that Jos actually has a claim on him, and yes, he absolutely wants a claim on Jos. Wants it now.

But this, this was just supposed to be practice, and look where he’s ended up. Jos must sense the discomfort he’s experiencing, because the keeper, the gorgeous, understanding, loving, too-good-for-anyone keeper, holds his face tenderly, and says; “Sweetheart? Are you okay?” with such _unabashed love,_ that Joe can’t hold himself back.

“Yes. I’m always okay when you’re around.”

The taller blonde smiles at him, but doesn’t let go of his face, still gazing at him intently. “Then what’s the matter angel? Have I done something you didn’t like?”

“No. God no. Just… this- please tell me this isn’t practice anymore. Is it? I don’t want it to be just practice. I can’t do this and then have you leave and go back to your own apartment because it’ll break me,” he breathes out softly, looking up, insecure and worried.

Jos wants to leave no doubt in this boy’s mind that he is _his_. That thought almost has him shoving Joe onto the floor and pulling his legs over his shoulders.

_Later. They’ll do that later._

“Practice, maybe. Practice for when I get you, my real boyfriend, into bed, or on the floor if you’re into that. Noticed you liked my car, maybe that…”

“Thank fucking God. Because I’ve loved you since the day I fucking met you.” And then Joe’s teeth are against Jos’ collarbones. And he’s rolling his hips down so fluidly onto the keeper, that Jos is convinced the boy is a stripper, and questions _why_ he was holding his hips down earlier??? He grips the younger boy’s hair, keeping his teeth working at the same spot until he feels a hand wrap around his wrist.

He releases his hold, and suddenly, Joe’s mouthing at his hipbones and Jos admirably fights the urge to fuck his hips against the dirty blonde’s mouth.

“I’ve loved you since then too.” He feels a coquettish grin against his hip, _the fucking minx._ Stronger men than Jos would fail at fighting that urge for very long, so he pulls Joe back up to him, chasing his lips urgently, a mess of teeth and tongue and Joe is melting into his arms.

Jos breaks from Joe’s mouth and resumes pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck, making sure to flick his tongue “soothingly” over his previous bites. He gets to the spot under Joe’s ear and nips gently before sucking roughly at it, resulting in Joe’s hips fucking down into Jos’. _Hard._

The keeper breathes out a staggered moan, grabbing Joe’s hips with his hands, sitting up, and then standing, and then Joe’s pushed against a bookcase, and there’s a thigh against him, and he’s convinced he’s never been this hard in his fucking _life._ Jos lets him grind roughly against the solid muscle, licking and soothing the abused skin. Joe is a whimpering _mess_ , begging Jos for all kinds of filthy, dirty things.

_Please please let me ride your thigh please oh my god please, don’t let me come, make me cry, debauch me da-mmfh please._

_Fingers, I want your fingers, think about them all the time, in my mouth shutting me up because I’m screaming too loud, curling up into me while you hold my hips down with your thighs._

_Want you to choke me._ _Your hand round my throat, your thighs around my head, your dick in my mouth. I want you to have to explain to Benny why I can’t speak._

_Wanna ride you so bad, please, wanna bounce on you and be a good little slut for you, daddy please._

Jos can only let out a quiet moan because _fuck_ , that was hot, and _fuck_ Joe sounds absolutely _wrecked,_ and _fuck_ did he just say _daddy?_

Joe gasps slightly when he realises what he’s said, innocent, wide, doe-eyes, glassy and unguarded looking up at Jos in a way that almost hurts, unsure and worried, but trusting and pleading. Jesus fucking Christ Jos wants to _wreck him. Defile_ him.

“I’ll give you everything you want angel. _Everything_. You’re mine now, no one else gets to touch you like this ever again. You’re only allowed to call _me_ that.”

“Always- _oh my fuck-_ always been yours, who else could I ever have eyes for?” Joe gasps out, hips working relentlessly against Jos’ thigh, while he writhes and whines, dirty and desperate. “Wanna ride you, please daddy?”

 _“Christ, Joey, who knew you had such a dirty mouth,”_ Jos says, as he laves his tongue up the side of Joe’s throat, prompting a desperate cry from the smaller blonde.

“Will you fuck it?”

 _“Fuck._ Is that something you’d like darling? Want me to ruin your throat? Use you like the pretty thing you are?”

Joe releases a, broken, breathy, _strangled_ cry of _“daddy please I want it,”_ and that does for Jos.

“Okay sweetheart, you can have it, god you’re angelic, you know that? Come here.” Jos strips the rest of Joe’s clothes off, and hitches the younger batsman up higher on his body, as he walks them to the bedroom. He places the younger down on his feet softly, pressing a soft and _unbelievably loving_ kiss to Joe’s throat. He pulls away looking intently into the smaller blonde’s eyes.

There’s a short exchange of heated stares, and normally Jos wouldn’t think much of it. But Joe keens, a whine escaping from high in his throat as he falls to his knees with a sob of _“please.”_

Jos is so gone for him. So fucking gone for this beautiful boy.

“Go ahead my love, you can take whatever you like.”

With a pleased moan, Joe strips off Jos’ tracks, and takes him into his throat immediately, half choking on the length.

 _“Holy fuck-_ angel don’t hurt yourself,” Jos reprimands, sliding his fingers into Joe’s hair, gripping tightly and relishing in the cry it gets him.

Joe pulls off momentarily, and what he says almost kills Jos on the spot. “Want it to hurt, fuck my throat, _please.”_

“Sweetheart I really don’t want to hurt yo-”

_“Now, daddy.”_

Jos growls, and jerks his hips forward. Joe moans around him, and reaches a hand up to intertwine with the fingers of Jos’ other hand. The keeper smiles down adoringly at him, before rolling his hips in a slow, rhythmic pace. As rough as Joe wants it, Jos is not going to hurt him more than necessary. _He’s never going to hurt him more than he wants to be hurt. Joe deserves better than that._

When he hits the back of Joe’s throat, and the younger chokes, Jos pulls back softly, just enough so that breathing is easier, but not so far that Joe feels empty.

Joe realises this. It’s hard to miss, the care Jos is taking with him, making sure he’s comfortable and sated and loved and looked after and _he just wants this man to ruin him._

So he tugs the taller blonde’s hand forward, wrapping the keeper’s digits around his neck so Jos can feel the way Joe’s throat is wrapped around his length. He looks up, eyes glassy and innocent as he swallows around Jos.

The keeper groans, low and gravelly and it makes Joe preen, because _he_ did that. Jos resumes his rocking motion roughly- moving faster and harder, coupled with unpredictable squeezes of his hand around Joe’s throat, all while he talks absolute fucking filth.

“Do you know how much I thought about this? How much I just wanted to touch you and hold you and love you, but also how badly I just wanted to mark you and fuck you and claim you. Prep yourself for me angel, fuck yourself on your fingers, ride them like you want to ride me. Show me how much you want it.”

Joe positively _cries_ as he executes the command, slowly sinking one, and then two fingers into himself. It does incredible things to the taller blonde, who keeps talking, obscene words falling from his mouth, dripping in the most vulgar tones possible.

“What do you want to hear sweetheart? Do you want me to tell you how good you are, how amazing your mouth feels, how your fixation with strawberry laces made me want to shove you to your knees and fuck your mouth until you couldn’t speak?”

Joe must have done something wonderful with his fingers, because he rolls his hips down- stuttering visibly, and moans, broken and wet around Jos’ length, and god that feels fucking fantastic.

“I was waiting for you to come to me. I didn’t want to push you into anything, but now you’re here, dropping onto your knees in front of me and begging for it. I want to fuck you so bad sweetheart, show you what you’ve been missing. I want you to ride me til your thighs tremble and you can’t hold yourself up anymore. Then I’ll push you into the mattress and make you come so hard you black out. It’s going to be filthy and scandalous- but I promise, I’ll make sure you love it. You won’t want anyone else ever again.”

Jos’ thrusts have gotten increasingly rough, and god, Joe could not think of anywhere he’d rather be. Joe just can’t think full stop. It’s numbing, and so so _hot._ Joe can’t even continue the movements of his fingers anymore, just grinds against them helplessly. His throat suddenly feels empty, and he feels an intense need to have something in hs mouth again. Without thinking, he tilts his head and bites at Jos’ inner thigh.

Jos drops to his own knees in front of him, and kisses his mouth hard, hand still resting snugly around the base of his throat, grip tough and possessive but still so loving and Joe just wants to cry. “You didn’t ask permission sweetheart. Try again.”

“M’sorry. C-can I bite you? Please?”

Jos arches his head back, and pulls Joe closer by the grip on his throat, til the youngers mouth is flush to the column of his throat. “Of course. You can have everything you want angel. I’m yours as much as you are mine.”

That sends a wave of _want_ through the younger blonde. He eagerly presses his teeth to the flesh, biting down harshly and sucking at the skin, teeth scraping over a vein, and Jos _moans._

Joe bites down in the same spot, working the flesh between his teeth as he whimpers into the flesh of Jos’ neck. Joe moves a few inches higher, toward the left, and sinks his teeth into Jos’ jugular.

It hurts but it hurts so so good, and Jos’ hands flex around Joe’s windpipe, cutting his air supply momentarily.

_“Oh god oh god oh god oh god fuck me, fuck me now-”_

“Sweetheart do you have l-”

“Don’t need. You’re slick enough, my saliva is dripping off you, and I’ve had three of my fingers in me for much longer than necessary. I want to ride you now.”

“Then you can do it right here.” Jos leans back on his elbows, and gives Joe a salacious smirk. “Ride me on the floor, since you’re so desperate for it.”

Joe crawls over Jos’ body, the offer too tempting to resist. He straddles the keepers hips, braces a hand over his sternum and sinks down onto him in one smooth fluid motion.

“Oh _fuck_ angel you feel so good wrapped around me like this _. So tight._ I want to keep you like this forever, stuffed full, mouth open and gasping.”

And while Jos can only run his mouth, unable to stop the litany of vulgar language pouring out, Joe can’t even speak. Choked cries, shuddering sighs and broken breaths escape his throat as he adjusts to the pain, seated flush against Jos’ hips. 

Sensing that his love needs a little help to function, Jos arches his back to roll his hips fluidly up into the younger. Joe collapses forward with a loud cry, bracing himself just over Jos’ mouth, which now has perfect access to his neck. Jos strains his neck up and bites, moaning lecherously into the flesh. _“Mine.”_

Joe’s breathing becomes increasingly heavy, as he raises his body, before fucking himself back down onto Jos hard enough that it prompts a strangled scream from both of them.

“Joey, Joey sweetheart let me-”

Joe seems to be in a world of his own, chasing his pleasure, hips moving festinately, a sense of urgency, whether it’s to please him or to extinguish the need burning through his veins, Jos doesn’t exactly know. But he takes some pity, meeting each downward thrust with a sharp upwards one of his own, knocking the oxygen out of Joe’s lungs. He knows exactly when he’s hit the right spot, because Joe tenses up, body convulsing as he throws his head back and screams bloody murder. It’s gorgeous.

_“Daddy, daddy more please- it’s not enough, need you-”_

And that’s all Jos needs to hear. He places a hand protectively around the back of Joe’s neck, before shoving him into the ground, not pulling away even an inch. Once Jos is sure Joe isn’t going to hurt his head, and that he’s comfortable, he pulls out slightly, and then slams himself into the younger, as hard as he can.

“Yes- _yes-”_ Joe chokes out, nails digging into his palms as he squirms. “Move, oh god _please.”_

Jos hums, and pulls back softly. Joe sobs at the feeling of the length dragging against his walls, body shuddering violently. “Please what?”

“Please-”

Before Joe can say it, Jos’ hand is wrapped tightly around his neck, and the word dies in his throat. Jos has taken to running his pointer finger across Joe’s collarbone, following down his sternum, and over his ribs before following the protruding line of his hipbone. The younger blonde arches his back almost painfully, desperately trying to get Jos in him deeper, get fucked harder. It’s to no avail, Jos is too strong, and the thought alone goes to his head.

The keeper leans down to bite the shell of his ear, and breathes in a soft and completely vitiated voice “please, _what?”_

 _“P-please daddy.”_ The strangled reply that Jos gets, he’ll remember for the rest of his life. Because it’s beautiful. Wrecked and craving and the keeper has no reason to deny it anymore.

He snaps his hips forward faster, increasing in both pace and force as Joe’s screams fill the air. Worried that the beautiful blonde under him is going to end up with no voice, he push two of his fingers into Joe’s mouth, while continuing to fuck him into oblivion.

It has the opposite of the desired effect, because Joe’s moans sound even more debauched, even more hopeless, messy and broken and it spurs Jos to fuck into him _harder._

Something, sounding a little bit like “daddy m’gonna come” escapes the younger boy’s destroyed throat. Jos quickly removes his fingers, content to let Joe scream his name for everyone to hear.

Joe does not disappoint. A sharp cry of Jos’ name, followed by many many stuttered moans of ‘daddy’, ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ tumble from his completely abused mouth. It drags Jos over the edge, biting into Joe’s bottom lip to muffle his own guttural growls. He draws blood, and savours in it as he pulls Joe atop of him and crashes into the carpeted floor of the younger’s bedroom.

After a few moments, once he’s collected himself, and picked them both up off the floor and dropped them gently in bed, he surveys Joe’s body. He brushes his thumb across the younger’s swollen lip, whispering out a soft apology.

“No. Loved it. Don’t.”

“Are you okay gorgeous? Was I too rough? Any regrets?” Jos strokes his fingers under Joe’s chin, looking at the younger intently, searching for any sign of repentance, brushing his digits softly over the harsh bruising marks.

“Never. S’you. Could never regret you. M’good. So good. You’re perfect.” Joe tenses, but Jos doesn’t even flinch at the words.

“You were wonderful baby. Best I could ask for.”

“Jossy?”

“Yeah angel?”

“I really like you.”

“Sweetheart, I really like you too. I don’t offer to fake-date just anyone. You’re special.” This settles Joe for a moment, but Jos can feel the anxiety rolling off him in waves. “Hey. Look at me.” Jos sits them up, placing his hands protectively on Joe’s hips. “I’m yours. I’ve always been yours. What’s troubling you?”

“Are we, like, dating now? Can I call you mine? Or are we just…” Joe motions between them with a floppy hand and it’s the most endearing thing Jos has ever seen.

“Joseph Root, the love of my life, the only person I’ve ever seen and thought ‘I will die if I don’t have him,’ would you like to be my boyfriend?”

Scratch the earlier thought. The smile that graces Joe’s face, is the most endearing thing Jos has ever seen.

“Yes. I would very much like to be. Joseph Charles Buttler, the love of _my_ life, the only person I have ever given myself up to, and thought ‘I will die if he isn’t by my side,’ would you please be mine?”

“What was it you said to me earlier angel? Hmm. I’ve always been yours. I’ve never had eyes for anyone else, since I met you.”

Joe cuddles closer into his chest, and Jos holds his boyfriend tighter.

“Jossy?”

“I love you too baby.”

“Oh. How did you-”

Jos levels him with a look, ten shades of adoration and another ten of fondness. “I have _always_ been yours.”

“You’re a sap. Stay?”

“For the rest of forever.”

Joe rolls his eyes, the gesture laced with warmth and devotion, before pressing another thousand kisses against his boyfriend’s mouth.


End file.
